


Low Life

by PoppyCartinelli



Series: SuperCorp Based off of Foleypdx's Art [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, It's sweet and sappy and I think they're great together, also not based on foley's art but certainly based on her amazing brain, also this is for foley, so come yell at me if you want, they're not together but??, this is sort of kind of supercorp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9967577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoppyCartinelli/pseuds/PoppyCartinelli
Summary: A continuation of the Medusa episode. Lena drinks whiskey and sits on her rooftop.





	

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, just a sad song and a lot of feels.
> 
> This is based off a headcanon from Foleypdx. Foley has the best Lena headcanons and we chat a lot, so, much Lena writing.
> 
> This is all based off the song Low Life which can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-1bqRH2LAo

She holds the whiskey in her hand, a bottle of the best. The roof of her suite has a gazebo and it’s her choice location for watching the world burn. Tonight, she celebrates the loss of the last of her family, ‘the jailing of a monster’ as the press calls it.

The bass of the song plays in nicely with the throbbing in her head.

“I’m nothing but a low life.”

She hums along and takes another swig. Her mother hadn’t even had the consideration to look surprised, she’d just looked disappointed. At least Lena was used to that.

The whiskey doesn’t burn anymore. The lights across the city are fading. If anyone says a city doesn’t sleep, they’ve never been on a roof at three in the morning with nothing but their own thoughts to keep them company.

“I’m nothing but a low life.”

She hears the slur in her words and sways to the side. The cops had grilled her for two hours about everything she knew. But she hadn’t lied to Supergirl, she knew nothing of her mother’s plans.

That would change in the morning. In the morning. But for now, Lena just wanted to finish her whiskey and lay on the cool bench.

“I try to fight the good fight, but after it all, I’m still just a low life.”

“I don’t think so.”

Lena jerks at the voice. She knows that voice, Supergirl. The hero sets down on her roof and pads over to the gazebo, but she doesn’t enter. Honestly, Lena almost laughs at the woman’s politeness. She’s flown up to Lena’s roof, but won’t step inside her space without an invitation.

What a ridiculous use of those powers.

“Came to say ‘I told you so’?” It comes out bitter, but it’s coherent and Lena will count that as a win as she’s three-quarters of the way through her bottle.

“No. I came to say ‘thank you’”

Her head swims as she turns on the bench. The bench isn’t as comfortable as she thought it would be, it’s quite the disappointment. But hey, so is she. What do Lena Luthor and a gazebo bench have in common?

It’ll be the joke of the town.

Supergirl looks genuine and perfect as always. Even after a missile exploded in her face. Lena needs the number of her hairdresser. Or maybe that’s natural? Lena cracks her eyes open again, nah, that can’t be natural.

“For what? Turning in my mother?”

“For saving hundreds, thousands of alien lives, including my friends’.”

Supergirl is still standing at the gazebo entrance, her hands clasped behind her back.

“And you came at three in the morning?”

“It’s actually closer to four, and yes.”

Lena hums, the song starts over for the sixth, seventh?, time. She tosses her arm over her eyes and wiggles the whiskey in her other hand. It’s hard to drink while laying down, she hadn’t thought about that.

“Seems like a lot of trouble just to say ‘thanks’.”

“A lot of trouble?”

There’s disbelief in Supergirl’s voice and Lena can’t hear her walk closer because there’s blood throbbing in her ears. But she doesn’t jerk when Supergirl’s voice comes from right above her, that’s probably the alcohol’s fault, Lena thinks she would normally jump.

“’A lot of trouble’ is duping your own mother. ‘A lot of trouble’ is altering an isotope just to push a button and watch as your mother gets taken away in a police car. ‘A lot of trouble’ is doing this all on your own because you don’t have anyone to lean on.” Supergirl kneels next to Lena and wraps her fingers around the whiskey bottle, tugging gently.

Lena lets her have it. She’s trying not to cry at this point. It’s definitely the alcohol.

“And you think after all of that, that you’re a low life?” Supergirl’s voice is soft but persistent. “Lena Luthor, you have never been a low life. You’ve shown your true colors, you’re as much of a hero as anyone ever could be.”

The tears run silently, she won’t break completely in front of Supergirl, but these are the words she’s been hoping to hear for so long. The music clicks off and the sound of the wind fills in the silence between them.

Supergirl takes a breath and Lena doesn’t know if she can take any more of this without crumbling. But she certainly doesn’t trust her voice to stop the Girl of Steel.

“I was going to come and see you tomorrow, but Kara Danvers couldn’t get ahold of you.” Kara? Why would Kara- ah, the news, of course Kara would know by now. “She said you weren’t answering your door. She was worried about you.”

She tried her best to stop the sob in her throat, but Kara… Kara worried enough to come to her flat at god-awful-o’clock in the morning and then to call a damn superhero to search for her.

“Why?” Her voice breaks on the single syllable and Lena brings her other arm up to cover the rest of her face. “Why do you two care?”

Supergirl is silent. Lena can almost hear her thinking of what to say. Her suit rustles and for a heartbreaking second, she thinks Supergirl is just going to leave. Leave her here to sob on her disappointment of a bench.

But then Supergirl’s arm slips under her neck, supporting her head, and this woman can’t be made of steel, not with an arm that cushions Lena so magnificently.

“Someone once told me that they could see the hero within me.” Supergirl pauses and Lena wonders who thought this woman needed the confirmation when she wore a cape most of the day. “She said it when I was in plain clothes. Just a nobody, but I tried, and she believed in me.”

Lena hadn’t expected that. That was more confirmation that Supergirl had a secret identity than she’d even admitted before.

“Lena, I meant it when I said you’re good.” Supergirl’s fingers ghost over her arm and Lena can’t help but wonder at how warm she is. “I can see the hero in you, Lena.”

The tears don’t stop anytime soon and Supergirl doesn’t leave her. The sun is rising before Lena’s arms slip to her chest, she’s too exhausted to keep her eyes open anymore. Her last conscious thoughts are about warm arms slipping under her, a light breeze over her face, and the comfort of her own sheets sliding over her skin.

 

* * *

 

She wakes to aspirin and water on her bedside table.  She stumbles to her bathroom to brush the taste of stale whisky from her mouth and there’s a basket on her kitchen counter. She ignores the pounding her head and the cotton in her mouth to pad over to the basket.

There’s a note tucked neatly into the basket:

_Lena,_

_I didn’t know what kind of cookies you liked, so I made a few of any that I could think of. I know that when nothing seems to be going right, sweets always cheer me up. And friends. If you’d like a friend, I could come over if you want._

_Just a call away,_

_-Kara_

There are rubbings all over the card, like Kara’d erased multiple times. Lena teeters on a smile, it’s just so in character for the reporter. She tucks the card close to her chest and pulls back the towel from the basket. There are more cookies than she’d seen in some bakeries, this must have taken her hours, the smell itself is intoxicatingly sweet.

She opens a bag stuffed with sugar cookies and, this time, she doesn’t try to hide her tears. She has two friends in National City that truly care for her. So, with that thought, Lena Luthor sits in her kitchen as it fills with the scent of sweets and cries until the world feels a little lighter.  


End file.
